


First of Many

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Dancing, F/M, Flirting, dancing as seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, Ron and Hermione have to brush up on their dancing skills. And so, it turns out, does Kingsley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First of Many

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



> Written as a Christmas present for the always lovely inell, who gave the prompt, “tango”.

Harry sighed and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. It had been a long day and he knew it was going to be an even longer evening. Why he got involved in these things in the first place, he would never know. He'd had a vague hope that this sort of thing was going to be behind him when the War was over and he started working full time at the Ministry. Sadly things rarely worked out how he would have liked.

“Why the tango?” he asked, looking over at Hermione.

“I don't know!” Hermione shouted, unnecessarily loud.

Harry took a step back.

Hermione was as flushed and as excitable, with hair sticking up in all directions, as she had been in their third year. She'd been taking on too much work then, as well.

Ron made a gesture behind Hermione's head which clearly meant he thought she'd gone bonkers. Unfortunately for him, the room they were in was wall to wall mirrors.

“Ronald Weasley! If you’re not here to help you can bloody well...”

Harry raised an alarmed eyebrow just as the door to the dance studio was flung open and Kingsley Shacklebolt strode in. He looked as startled to see them as they were to see him.

“Ah, hello.”

“Mr Shacklebolt,” Harry said with a nod. “We're um...” He looked over to Hermione for help.

“We're taking dance lessons, Harry, there's nothing wrong with that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Ron muttered behind her. Hermione's glare could have curdled milk, and Ron took a few placating steps backwards, arms raised in surrender. Hermione's glare only increased.

“For the Ministry’s Ball? Yes, me too.”

“Really? I would have though you...I mean you move so well...um.” It was Hermione's turn to look to Harry for help. Harry looked blankly back at her. He wasn't really sure what was happening any more.

“I've never had to lead the dancing at a Ball before,” Kingsley explained, his deep voice doing very interesting things to Hermione's insides. “I don't want to let the side down.” He smiled somewhat nervously at the others.

“I hadn't realised you were going to...do that,” Hermione said, remembering at the last minute that the invitations to the Ministry of Magic's Charity Christmas Ball had actually said as much.

Harry's eyes widened a fraction and she could see in one of the mirrors that Ron was making some very strange faces.

Before anyone could think of anything to say Madam Olga, the dance teacher, entered the room. She was wearing the kind of outfit that would have given Gilderoy Lockhart a run for his money, topped off with multicoloured hair. Somehow, she made the whole ensemble work.

“Ah, you are here, this is perfect. Chop, chop!” She motioned with wide arms towards the dance floor. No one moved. None of them had any great desire to be the first one to make a fool of themselves. After all, the last time three of them had danced at a formal occasion, it hadn't exactly ended well.

Madam Olga didn't seem perturbed. She merely waved her wand and music began to play from somewhere near the ceiling. Then she grabbed Hermione's hands and twirled her into Kingsley's arms at the same time as she grabbed Ron and twirled him into Harry's arms.

“Um...” Harry said.

“No talking, dancing!” Madam Olga flicked her wand and the dark outlines of feet appeared on the floor. They started to move with the beat of the music, and once they had done one circuit of the room the disembodied feet stopped in front of the two pairs of dancers.

“This is how you hold your partner.”

Hermione had no time to react as Madam Olga efficiently manoeuvred her arms and legs into the position she needed to be in. Being so close to Kingsley, whose hand fitted very naturally around her back, was so alarming that she barely heard Ron's yelp of surprise as he too was manoeuvred into position.

“Why do I have to be the girl?” she heard Ron ask, but muffled, like he was talking underwater.

“If you'd rather have a different partner...” Kingsley began to ask, trailing off as Hermione looked up at him. Something must have shown on her face, because Kingsley's eyes grew very wide.

“Come along, come along, chop, chop!” Madam Olga said. She pushed Hermione and Kingsley towards the closest footprints.

“Shall we?” Kingsley asked. Hermione nodded mutely; she was finding all her words stuck in the back of her throat.

The music turned to that of the tango and Hermione found herself quite literally whisked off her feet.

Kingsley's smile was infectious and for a moment Hermione was completely lost in it, but then Madam Olga's screeching of orders penetrated her dreamlike state and she realised that unless she wanted to make an absolute fool of herself she really was going to have to concentrate.

It was easy after that, with the music surging around them, and Kingsley's body pressed closer to hers. Hermione could focus on nothing but moving as she was directed, not wanting the music to stop. She had seen the tango in motion before – her grandparents had taken her to dances more than once - but she'd had no idea what spark of feeling it would ignite. Judging by Kingsley's harsh breathing, he was just as affected.

Finally the music stopped. Madam Olga's praise was effusive as she told them to return the same time tomorrow, but Hermione only felt lost as Kingsley released his grip and stepped away from her.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Kingsley asked.

“Dinner?” Hermione repeated. “I'd love to.”

She refused to acknowledge the blush spreading over her face as Kingsley helped her on with her jacket and held open the door for her.

“What about us?” an outraged Ron asked as he watched them leave, but no one had any answer for him.


End file.
